


guilty feet have got no rhythm

by wolframvonbielefeld (maknaeline)



Series: cloud's giftfics [10]
Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Amnesiac Lan Wangji, Crack Treated Seriously, Hades/Persephone AU, Humor, M/M, Persephone Tops, Pining Wei Wuxian, Reincarnation, Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maknaeline/pseuds/wolframvonbielefeld
Summary: The issue with Immortals, really, is that they're so deprived of Gossip, that they have to make theirs. That, everyone insists, is really how the affair starts. Not some kind of timeless-reincarnating soulbond or anything.Even if Lan Wangji is sure something's missing. That's just absurd, right?





	1. Upside Moon: Pink Camellia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blueevileye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueevileye/gifts).



> Okay so this is all - I blame Kay, and I mostly blame Gaby for enabling me, and it's mildly insane but a lot of fun, I PROMISE. It's three chapters total, and will be posted in rapid succession if everything works out. 
> 
> YES, I NAMED THIS AFTER CARELESS WHISPER. FIGHT ME. There's a reason, I promise.

Immortality, like diapers and every other essential you can find listed at the local Walmart for under twenty dollars, comes at a price. This is intrinsic knowledge, stuff people have known like, since the beginning of time, when lightning set a forest on fire and people discovered charred pork tasted nice.

 

The issue is, if you ask the immortals what it is, they won't tell you.

 

There are numerous hypotheses about this, especially by cultivators who are still in their last or second-to-last stage of Nascent Soul completion, and who have essentially no idea what has been going on in the heavens for the last few thousand years, and about the irritating politics of the central figures up there, who are pretty much deprived of Gossip and are just...looking to advance themselves more, or bitch about the rest of the Gods in the Thousand Realms of Heaven, connected to all the alternate universes that make up the Worldly Realms.

 

(The fifty-third Goddess of Wisdom in the Twentieth Realm, for instance, has been on a Supernatural fanfiction binge that she claims will purify her soul by reminding her she was never one of those people. )

 

The issue in this case is, however - that Lan Wangji has no idea where he is.

 

"What," he says flatly, when the doorkeeper informs him that this is, in fact, the Hundredth Realm of Heaven. "Why am I here?"

 

"Well, sir," the perky blond registrar, who looks, upon squinting, a little too much like Betty Cooper begins. "You chose to give up something precious for Immortality, and therefore -"

 

Lan Wangji has never read Archie's comics, having not been from that verse, so he glosses over that fact and gets directly to the point. "I'm Immortal now?" The word brings with it a mild sense of accomplishment, but a lot more worry than he had thought he would feel.

 

Why had he thought he would feel no worry? That train of thought slips away again, and he raises a hand to his face, stopping at his forehead. It feels...empty. He slides it away. No use thinking about it now.

 

"Yes, yes, with a name here and everything - wow, we don't even need to airbrush your face for the eventual paparazzi photos," Betty, as we will be calling her now, says. She pushes a pen into his hands, which he looks at for a moment, before turning back to her and the register that she shoves under his nose.

 

"No. No - that makes no sense," he says. His voice goes a little higher, almost frantic. He can tell he's forgetting something, but it's slipping out of his reach every time he tries to grasp on to the thought.

 

"Well, buddy, you must be the unhappiest person I've seen come to the realm." Betty's blue eyes bore into him curiously. "Maybe the flowers could cheer you up! There's a whole list there, you should look at the terms and conditions and think about what you wanna go with. Fair warning, there's more people in the lobby, they might wanna get one up on you. Just because they're not shitty doesn't mean they're going to be fair to you, ya know?"

 

Lan Wangji does not know. He nods anyway, and skims through the bewildering register, which seems to be made of some kind of interactive, jade-like smooth material.

 

**HUNDREDTH REALM: IMMORTAL REGISTRATION**

REGISTER ONCE AND YOU'RE SET FOR AFTERLIFE!

 

 **NAME:** [TAP TO INSERT]

 **GODLY TITLE:** [NO SEXUAL DIMINUTIVES. SEE: APHRODITE'S MINIONS CLAUSE FOR EXCEPTIONS]

 **RESIDENCE:** [EXISTING, NO HOMESTUCK JOKES OR PUNS, EXCEPTIONS ALLOWED FOR NEW STRUCTURES]

 **REALM:** [ASSIGNED, UPGRADEABLE]

 **LIST OF AVAILABLE PATRONAGES:** [123456HIFUMIGIGOLO RESULTS]

 

"That's a drop-down menu, do you have drop-down menus back home? Or well, I guess this is home now." Betty smiles sympathetically. "Pick something that fits you, really, I'd avoid the Martial courts unless you're fond of bloodshed though."

 

"No blood," Wangji says hurriedly, not sure why, but sure that he doesn't like it. They most decidedly do not have drop-down menus at home, but they have...rabbits. Yes. Rabbits are good. And flowers, perhaps? Peach blossoms, magnolias, lips as soft as petals. Distracting - music, yes. Music. Zither.

 

"Ooh, that's quite a list of talents - you have all the keywords you need now for a title, too," Betty comments. Wangji sees the three words he'd thought of appear across the paper under LIST OF AVAILABLE PATRONAGES. "Nice combination, no one's taken that particular one yet. Mind being a minor god?"

 

"Not at all," he says. Hesitates. "Have I forgotten something?"

 

Betty's smile turns sharp. "Sweetheart, I can't tell you that. Company policy, and all - and well," she points to the signature. "You do have to sign the contract, or remain stranded in the lobby forever. Although, there's a buffering time afterwards too, but it shouldn't be that long for you."

 

"I see." Wangji does not, because he has no idea what any of those words mean, but he's doing his best. He takes the paper, and then looks at the pen in his hand, frowning.

 

"Still having second thoughts?" Betty asks.

 

"No, just -" Wangji pauses, and then holds up the pen, the nib upside down. "How do I use this, again?"

 

***

 

Lan Wangji rather likes the Upside Moon Realm.

 

He's neighbours with this nice dude with really long hair he met while waiting in the lobby, and they often bond over having the nicest hair in the entire community, especially at the bake sales and food courts that their _other_ neighbour with nice hair is constantly having, despite the fact that they're all immortal and don't technically need to eat. Sometimes an unwary mortal will wander in, though, and that's always fun to watch. There's barely any politicking either.

 

He learns that all the Realms have their own mini-realms, the Residences, and each Residence has their own little plots called Shrines. As in, plural form. It's because most gods have multiple shrines, Yue explains to him, while they're braiding each other's hair during spa day. Which includes others, of course, like this one girl called Kagome who makes herself known by her extremely cheerful babbling and constantly moons over how Yue reminds her of someone, and her friends, the slightly more sedate Misaki and Erina, aka nice-hair neighbour who goes by the extremely apt title of The Divine-Tongued, because she's the first Goddess in the Hundredth Realm who is entirely dedicated to _food_.

 

"You mean to tell me that there are shrines? For all of us?" he says, a little in disbelief. "That sounds..."

 

"Yeah, I know, I can't believe _Bakugo_ has one either, and on here, of all places," Erina says, scoffing, while doing Misaki's hair in the other corner of the mat. "Apparently they're all _online_ these days, you know. The kid's like fifteen, what's he doing here?"

 

Lan Wangji does not, in fact, know. He also privately thinks that Erina shouldn't be talking, since she looks fifteen too, and has every bit of the annoying attitude he sees on Bakugo sometimes. Yue shares a look with him, and they both sigh. _Teenagers._

 

That's something he has figured out about himself. He's definitely not a teenager - no, he's a full-fledged adult, and when he sits down with his zither he can tell he has years of experience playing it, despite the twinge of hurt that comes with every twang of the strings. He feels like he spent actual years playing, but somehow in a futile manner.

 

It's why he doesn't spend much time playing, but the rabbits and flowers give him very little solace unless he can divert himself. So he spends hours making daisy chains and bouquets of magnolias, that he leaves out on the windowsill of his outhouse for passing Immortals to collect. There's always one or two that like ordering the nicest poisonous orchids or underwater lilies every other week, and Wangji makes quite a tidy bit of profit from those.

 

Not in money, of course, that's blasphemy. He just gets more spiritual energy, each time. Yue tells him it's his cultivation base - that he's essentially starting from the bottom up again, except with the promise of a relatively happy life and non-violent life. That is, unless someone from Down Under decides it's a good time to have a party and throw all the stars into displacement for another fifteen hundred years.

 

That _has_ happened before, apparently, which he finds out while delivering his flowers himself to Erina, who is cooped up in Misaki's Shrines eating seaweed out of an environment-friendly carton and feeding her at the same time as Kagome, who keeps stealing from the apparently bottomless carton.

 

"Cool," Kagome says, when she spots him with the bouquet of wild rainbow-coloured roses. "That's like, the fifth this week, he's pretty persuasive."

 

"He just wants to battle me over my culinary skills, puny Thousandth-Realm God," Erina says dismissively. "Thank you for the flowers though, Lan Wangji, they are lovely."

 

Wangji wants to point out that since the roses were a commission from a customer, they're technically not all his credit - a flower can only be as beautiful as the person commissioning them wants to be, he has noticed - but Kagome is shaking her head wildly. Ah. So it's one of those things that are best left unsaid. He's getting better with those.

 

"Well, as long as he doesn't think of accidentally coming in and screaming about how he's lost the key to the Realm like that one did..." Kagome says, deflecting, and Misaki slams her hand on the table.

 

"We don't talk about that," Erina says. "Please. The amount of food I had to make -"

 

"So many lost jobs, we had to find Residences for all of them, and they were severely weakened too!" Misaki grumbles, shifting through her papers. She's apparently the patron Goddess of school presidents, which means she also gets a lot of paperwork on the administrative side from both the Thousand Realms and her own proteges in the Worldly Realms. Lan Wangji approves, but also has no clue why she would willingly pick that. "It really affected the economy back then, you know!"

 

"Mhm, we had to assign some of the best of our men to the Down Under for supervision. Heard new Gods were asking to be assigned there for some reason, too." Kagome says knowingly, and Lan Wangji stops listening. When they go on a tangent it becomes impossible to get a single word in.

 

"Anyway," Erina says, "I heard we're getting new neighbours soon, I just hope it's not because one of them decided to move. That would be super annoying. None of you ever stop eating." She looks particularly pleased with that, so no one comments. She also looks pleased with the flowers, which she arranges in one of her Ever-Watered Vases, one of the local specialties by a Water God.

 

"I can do live music at your next court," Lan Wangji offers.

 

"This is why I love you," Erina beams, and sends him off with more cakes than he can possibly consume for the next week.

 

All in all, it's a satisfying, stress-free life, really. Even as he learns how to till the magic, crumbling soil so it listens exactly to what he says, as he learns how to talk to the tiny rabbits that flock to him, if in the crudest language, as he learns how to navigate the strange technology in the Thousand Realms, borrowed from all over the Worldly Realms, he knows he's doing fine.

 

The loneliness that overtakes him at night, however, is unbearable. The Upside Moon Realm doesn't have a True Night, unlike the Downside Moon Realm, which is always dark, which Yue tells him to never visit unless he wants nightmares. He's heard things about Immortals who like flesh-eating fish, and he prefers eating them far too much to traumatize himself. But night - when he rests, which is every span of sixteen hours, for eight hours, - feels incomplete, like there is an entire hollowed out, carved out part of his soul.

 

Lan Wangji blames it on the lack of the sun, at first. There's no sun in the Upside Moon - the ground itself shines, and there's the dim light of the stars far away, and that is enough for his plants to grow. He thinks it's like a constant state of early dawn, back in his own time, the sun just barely slipping out of reach - like the memory he chases - and soon begins to wonder if he knew what the sun felt like, and if he would ever remember.

 

He thinks it has something to do with how his forehead feels empty, sometimes, and takes to wearing a bandanna while he's in the garden. It helps, but only in a miniscule way.

 

He asks Yue about it, over sharing the cakes.

 

"Everyone feels it here, I think," Yue says, frowning. "There's this hypothesis in the Upper Realms that there's a price for Immortality, and that's it - but it's the oddest things that feel missing to some of us, so it probably varies from person to person. For example, I constantly feel violently jealous when I look at mirrors."

 

Funny. Lan Wangji can't imagine what's missing. He turns on the TRR Channel, and lets the flute music suffuse the room later. It feels pretty okay to him.

 

Life goes on, mostly sedate, mildly boring. Sometimes his rabbits tell him he "needs to fuck". He looks up the definition on Godgle, vaguely recognizing it, flushes deeply when it redirects to a page recommending several Aphrodite's Minions, and closes the tab.

 

(He wipes his history and everything. He's not _that_ stupid.)

 

***

 

Things, however, come to a head around thirteen weeks in, at the moment he hears Gossip has arrived to the Upside Moon Realm, after a severe drought.

 

"Who is that?" he asks with some trepidation, and immediately gets several looks of disbelief. "I am sorry, I am unaware of the Realm rules, I apologize for any offense."

 

"Dude, you gotta lighten up at some point," Misaki says. She tugs her hair into a ponytail, opening the red tape on the new set of files that have been delivered to her door. "It's not a big deal, not really. Most of these just require my signature, so I know what Gossip to spread."

 

"Realms have restrictions," Yue explains to him in a low voice, and Lan Wangji is again thankful for the one person who understands his lack of expression to be confusion instead of indifference. "One of them is on the amount of Gossip that is allowed to spread through it, because they are rumours and not always true facts. False facts can twist your opinions of a person, and damage your cultivation base."

 

"That sounds dangerous," Wangji says.

 

Yue nods. "Precisely why we get so little of it. It's not that bad, really, but it drives some of the community to distraction, especially when we already get minimal contact with the Worldly Realms these days. And that can get dangerous too - it's how the Realms were thrown out of order for a while there."

 

"Stop being stuffy in the corner!" Misaki says, and her voice is excited. "You guys, we're going to have a ball! Right around the Inter-Realm Festival, too!"

 

"Ugh. I'm not going," Erina says right away. "That brat's going to be there!"

 

"Yes, but so will your best friend, and when was the last time you saw her?" Kagome says pointedly, and turns brightly to the two of them. "We're taking you two for fittings later, and to do your hair too. Oh, I know just the right people for the job!"

 

Yue and Lan Wangji share another look, this time of long-suffering. Wangji has been here less time than Yue, but he's already used to it.

 

And, really, they're his friends. How bad can it get?

 

***

 

It can, in fact, get pretty bad. Wangji realizes this the moment he runs into an extremely tiny person with a pixie cut dyed in ten shades and scissors, which hovers threateningly close to his hair. Wangji _likes_ his hair, which is why he backs away warily, staring from her scissors to the large neon sign that proclaims this to be the **FUCKFACE SALON**.

 

"Oh, get back here you big baby, this is just the Scissor of Severing Worldly Attachments," the person grumbles, fixing her glittering blouse, which appears to be made entirely of stardust. "None of you have had sex outside of marriage _yet_ in the Immortal Realms, surprisingly enough, so this is entirely unnecessary. I say it's unnecessary, period, because everyone deserves to fuck, but -"

 

"This is a Fate," Kagome introduces, "Sarah, meet Lan Wangji. Don't mind her, she's just a cranky lesbian."

 

"I'll show you cranky lesbian," Sarah says. "Or well, I'll show _you_ what a cranky lesbian can do. Don't worry, my hair skills are absolutely flawless."

 

Lan Wangji learns, in the next two hours, that her skills are, in fact, absolutely flawless beyond reproach, because when she's done with his hair he feels like some Empress of olden times, right down to the Divine Turtle hairpin that squirms until she starts to pet it gently, at which point it calms down and settles right into a nap.

 

"I can see what you're thinking, and I can assure you," Sarah declares, affixing living pearls into the sides of his intricate braided coif, which already has a single pink camellia in the very middle, where his braids twine into each other, "that you look much better than any of the Mortal Empresses I've had the misfortune of dressing. Or their Emperors, for that matter. Bad hair _and_ bad taste. I did do some pretty good up-dos, though."

 

"Before you killed them for seducing some poor girl," Kagome, who has been roped into helping with Yue's braid, adds from the side. "Stop _squirming_ , Yue, it's just a mirror, it's not out to steal your boyfriend."

 

"Before I killed them for seducing some poor girl," Sarah agrees, and Wangji has the ominous feeling that she's not speaking in jest. "I doubt Lan Wangji here is going to be doing any seducing of girls, however. Just a feeling."

 

"I don't have a boyfriend," Yue says, because he loses his sense of humour in face of his irrational rage. "Please, get me out of here."

 

"He loses his sense of humour in face of his irrational rage," Lan Wangji explains patiently.

 

"Valid, but he's not even facing the mirror! No Yue, stop opening your braids, I spent an hour on that!"

 

***

 

The Inter-Realm Festival is the big event of the Worldly Realm Harvest Season, which means Lan Wangji is now forced to interact with more people than he strictly prefers. The Upside Moon Realm has several communities, and he's in one of the smallest ones, but he still knows some people by their faces and not their names, so he's terrified of accidentally forgetting someone who had introduced themselves to him before. He has begun to keep a book that details everyone's names - some of them in the strange language that all people in the Thousand Realms speak when they speak out loud. Kagome said something about it being a Plot Device, which Wangji assumes is one of the wild technological feats the Thousand Realms have achieved with respect to developments in the Worldly Realms.

 

("It's like, you speak an archaic version of my language, and I speak a newer version of yours, so the Divine Author - she's at the head of the First Realm, you know - compromised and build a semi-accurate translator but really it's all just Godgle-"

 

Wangji had tuned her out after that. He feels vaguely like he has experience dealing with chatterboxes, from his own time.)

 

And yes, that's another problem. His own time. He still only remembers things in flashes, which he supposes is fair. Yue has been here far longer, apparently, and he barely recollects anything except his great distaste for mirrors and feathers, which is mildly hilarious considering he sports his own pair of wings.

 

Kagome tells him right away that he might meet someone from his own time at the Inter-Realm Festival, just as they get on the Clown Car that drives them into one of the Nexus points where the Thousand Realms meet the Worldly Realms.

 

"It's best to not get too close, though," she says wistfully. "Sometimes I wish I could make more friends, but look at Erina! She found her best friend from her own time, but they're permanently in different Residences and neither of them wants to Upgrade to a different Realm, so they can only write to each other."

 

"What does Upgrading entail?" Wangji asks, but Kagome gets swept away the next second by an acquaintance from their community he only knows by face, and he decides it's not worth the risk pursuing her in the massive crowd of the Festival.

 

Instead, he puts on the silver mask Kagome had crafted for him - one for each of them - and goes into the crowd. The Festival is, more than anything, meant to be a time where mortals can meet Gods in the crowd and vice versa, amidst a dark, moonlit night - the light from the Upside Realm. All of them are in embroidered face masks that declare their status and title in intricate stitching. An old tradition, and one that Kagome insists on upholding, even if she has to get her friend to show her how to needlepoint.

 

Mortals feel fragile to him, somehow - filled with such a sense of urgency, of passion, that he feels like he's been missing out on things he had been all-too-familiar with in his own time. He crosses hordes of children holding candied apples, others with water guns and more with yoyos. He sees a couple, holding hands under a shady tree that he's fairly sure is haunted by at least one ghost who never made it past the Gate of Immortality, who lean into each other and kiss so sweetly that his heart clenches. He looks away from the two women and into the distance, wondering why he feels so lonely again. His hands itch for soil, to put his feelings into motion, and he retrieves the pouch of magic soil from his sleeve as he sits down on a low wooden bench, right next to a rowdy spirits shop. The wine kind, not the ghost kind. A place full of drunkards, he figures, are unlikely to have enough virtue to see the man making flowers right in front of them.

 

He pauses before he starts, and then he channels the spiritual energy in his hand and infuses the soil with it, before letting the tiny bit of it drop from his hand and into the ground in front of him. The plant grows immediately - an indulgence that would have sapped too much energy from him on a normal day, but the Festival thrives with spiritual energy, and it is a time for things to grow. He wonders what kind of flowers it will give him.

 

"Nice work," says a voice next to him.

 

Wangji looks up, startled. There is a man standing on top of the roof of the wine shop, two large jars of wine hanging by his belt. He wears no mask, and his deep-dark grey eyes rove curiously over Wangji in a way that makes him want to hide but immediately pull him down and demand who he is - _what_ he is to him - to look at him like that. He knows it is a god - it has to be a God, to be able to look just slightly inebriated, and yet reek of good virtue.

 

"Haven't seen a Flower Weaver in a long time," the man says, and jumps down from the roof before Wangji can make any protests about being gawked at, or clarify that he's a God and the man - whoever he is - cannot examine his work until it's complete. "And who might you be?" His tone is teasing, but then Wangji properly lifts his face to his, still covered by his mask, and as soon as he meets the man's eyes, the grey dilates until it's blown wide.

 

"Oh," he says, perfectly still. "Yearning Seven-Strings of the Upside Moon."

 

"Yes," Lan Wangji says, disconcerted. He has the characters for his Divine Title stitched into his mask, but it is...surprising, that he identified it right away. "I am...Lan Wangji."

 

"What a silly coincidence," he smiles, and Lan Wangji watches, entranced as his entire face becomes absolutely _radiant_. "I am Wei Wuxian, the Yearning Flutist of the Darkside Moon. Currently assigned to the Down Under."

 

 _Different characters,_ Lan Wangji thinks, and marvels that finally someone besides Yue speaks the archaic language.

 

"A dear thought's memory," he murmurs. The memory again, slips through his fingers like sand. "They must be very dear."

 

"They are," the Yearning Flutist says, and then holds out his hand. "Come, I know a better place for flowers to grow. They can't thrive here."

 

"But the plant," Lan Wangji protests. He looks at the plant, which has bloomed with rosemary. Remembrance, he realizes. Something, just out of reach. Who is this man? What will he remember?

 

"Let it be, I'm sure it will manage to grow just fine." There's an urgency in his words that Wangji doesn't understand, that he feels is important to explore. He can see Kagome in the distance, still talking to the woman from their community.

 

Surely it's not...too bad, to leave for a while? He will be back soon enough.

 

Lan Wangji takes his hand, and watches in a daze as the man's smile outshines the sun.

 

 _Oh,_ he thinks. _Oh. This is what the sun feels like._

 

***

 

Somewhere in the crowd, Yue frowns at the way Wei Wuxian - of _all the people_ Lan Wangji had to meet in all the Thousand Realms - interlinks hands with his friend.

 

"The little trickster is up to something," he mutters, and gets distracted the next second by the fireworks, and thus misses their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yearning can be either: 思追 = si zhui and 相思 = xiang si. In my head, Wangji's Divine Title uses the first, which translates more or less to "to chase a memory", and Wuxian's uses the second, which stands for "a dear thought's memory." THANK YOU TSU FOR THE HELP WITH MY TERRIBLE BARELY RUDIMENTARY CHINESE. To native speakers: please feel free to correct anything that looks awry!


	2. Down Under: Yellow Tulip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The problem is -" Yue says irritably, "does Lan Wangji know that he's not supposed to eat any food down there?"

Lan Wangji has, not for the first time after coming to the Thousand Realms, no idea where he is.

 

The Yearning Flutist - no, _Wei Wuxian_ , he thinks - is fast on his feet, even for an Immortal, and he finds himself clasping his fingers tighter as they weave their way through the crowd of a million faces, indistinct and passive, as Wei Wuxian leads them into a downhill path. Wangji has never felt more Immortal than in this moment, completely separated from them - from their life and their laughter. It is just not the same, in the Thousand Realms.

 

"Makes you wonder how they can bear to live such short lives, doesn't it?" Wei Wuxian says, and Lan Wangji looks towards him this time, noting his sad eyes, his wry little smile. "Wondering what it was like, yet?"

 

"No," Lan Wangji says. The disquiet he feels probably does not show on his face. "The - the ones who are not Immortal, where do they go?"

 

From the way his eyes shift away, Wei Wuxian seems to have expected this line of inquiry, which begs the question - how does he know? How can he tell? A million questions rise to Lan Wangji's lips, and he speaks none of them out loud.

 

Instead he watches the way his long hair trails behind his back in a stream, locks braided behind him with a loop of long white ribbon that has an intricate pattern of clouds. It looks mortal-made, and he finds it curious how a God can keep something so material, especially when it clashes completely with his delicately embroidered black and red robes.

 

He wants to ask, again, but he does not. He watches the surroundings blur as they move farther and farther from the Festival, and towards a separate Nexus.

 

"What did you come in to the Festival, today?" Wei Wuxian asks, casually.

 

"A Clown Car," Lan Wangji says seriously.

 

There is a silence as Wei Wuxian processes that sentence, and then bursts into laughter. "The Clown Car? Who did you offend, Lan Wangji?"

 

"Don't call me that." Lan Wangji's response is automatic and abrupt. It feels wrong - sets his teeth on edge. He doesn't know why - he doesn't mean to establish a distance, but he knows - he _knows_ that he never wants to hear the name in _that_ voice from _this person_.

 

"Mmm, very well then - what would you rather I called you?" Wei Wuxian tilts his head, making his hair fall into his eyes. Lan Wangji realizes, for the first time now that they're on level ground, that Wei Wuxian is actually just a little shorter, even though he looks strong and wide-shouldered like him. Something about the action makes him want to wrap him up in his coat.

 

He chases that feeling away. It is inappropriate, he tells himself.

 

"No one, Kagome just wanted to try them," he says, changing the subject.

 

"The Jeweled Archer," Wei Wuxian says, and something about his smile is sad again. "Understandable, her memories are that of a child still." He turns to the side and whistles loudly. "Anyway, you're going to love this."

 

Lan Wangji doesn't have time to ask what _this_ is, because he sees it over Wei Wuxian's shoulder before he opens his mouth. A shining black skeletal horse, black wispy smoke issuing from its hooves, comes galloping towards the Nexus before it comes to a stop right next to them. It nuzzles into Wei Wuxian's hands, who looks absolutely delighted to see it.

 

"This is Marceline, my mare. My ride's much better, isn't she?" he asks gleefully. "I know you'd like this!"

 

Lan Wangji _does_ , and he feels a pang of nostalgia. He could swear that he has ridden a horse before, and he wonders how Wei Wuxian knows. Is it because they are both from similar time periods? Everyone in his time, he has remembered not a long while back, had to learn the Six Arts, so it makes sense that Wei Wuxian would too.

 

He does not ask any of these questions, and watches Wei Wuxian pull himself into the saddle, before holding out his hand again. "Come, it shouldn't be far from here on."

 

"You still haven't told me where you're taking me," Lan Wangji reminds him. He is beginning to have a bad feeling about this excursion, and wonders if he should have sought out Yue before leaving, because the girls will inevitably worry.

 

"That's part of the fun!" Wei Wuxian's grin is decidedly beguiling, and for the second time, Lan Wangji puts off telling Yue and the rest, taking his hand again.

 

What's the worst that could happen, after all?

 

***

 

"The last time I saw him he was with Wei Wuxian of the Darkside Moon," Yue says, his voice flat.

 

The girls look at each other, then shrug. "He's not that bad," Erina says. "Terrible at cooking, but he came to my bake sale once and bought out all my cupcakes."

 

"He's assigned to the Down Under, though," Misaki says tentatively. "Don't look at me like that, we all know there's laws about that kind of thing."

 

"I really doubt there could be any actual problems, really," Kagome adds. "I mean, it's not like he's going to end up in a Residential crisis. We've all the read the Three Thousand Rules on our first day, right? As long as he abides by them it shouldn't be a problem."

 

"Did we now," Yue says. "And can you recite all three thousand of them without problem?"

 

The silence that follows is pointed.

 

"Well, as long as he doesn't eat any fruit from the Down Under, he won't be in trouble?" Misaki ventures.

 

Erina makes a horrified noise in that second. " _NO,_ " she wails, and then claps her hands over her face.

 

"By the Divine, Erina, what?!" Kagome snaps.

 

"If he was going there, he could've told me first - I would've made him deliver some of the Down-Under fruit here so I could test it in my recipes!"

 

Everyone present visibly groans.

 

"Don't be absurd," Misaki says. "The Non-Immortals don't have enough food there as it is, how could he bring back any when there's no surplus?"

 

Erina's voice goes high in shock. "They - they don't have any food?!"

 

"The problem is -" Yue says irritably, "does Lan Wangji know that he's not supposed to eat any food down there?"

 

"Oh, stop worrying," Erina says. "He said something about memorizing rules all his life when he came here, right? He'll be fine. Now what's this about no food?"

 

***

 

The wind that blows past them is bitterly cold, but Wei Wuxian's back is warm. Lan Wangji leans into him and breathes in his calming, half-familiar smell. He thinks that Wei Wuxian might be made of stone, because he only spurs his horse on, uncaring of him settled right against him.

 

Then again, Wangji doubts the attraction he feels right now is mutual, which is a rather distressing thought. He hasn't been attracted to so much as a single soul after coming here, and he had assumed that was the norm for Immortals. Yet, after seeing that couple kiss tonight, he cannot help but wonder he had left behind someone like that in his time, and if the attraction he feels is a form of betrayal.

 

"You're thinking too much, Seven-Strings," Wei Wuxian says, breaking him out of his stupor. "Can you tell where we are, now?" His voice is gentle and right against Lan Wangji's ear, and Wangji realizes that he has turned to face him, the mare slowing just for a second so he can take in his surroundings.

 

The first impression Lan Wangji has of the Down Under when it finally comes into view is that it's very...dark. Darker than the Upside Moon, and perhaps even the Darkside Moon, with its glowing ground and a sky full of dim stars. It is littered with Mortal souls, half-grey and stumbling occasionally into each other on the sides, and Wei Wuxian makes his mare slow down so he doesn't knock into anyone. He assumes, as Wei Wuxian pulls into the grounds, that his Shrines would be just as dark.

 

Instead, the place is lit by candles.

 

He watches in awe as the fireworks that go off at the Nexus are visible even from here, and the millions of spirit-energy candles, emitting a soft, reddish light that burns green alternately, light up the entire fort. It is a fort, now that Wangji can see it clearly - an immense one. The grounds nearby reek of death, barely hidden by the scent of incense.

 

Lan Wangji is surprised that he remembers what death smells like. There's a memory fragment here, he knows, that he clasps at in a futile manner. It is determined to stay out of reach.

 

"Eerie, right?" Wei Wuxian says. "This is my Shrines." His hand tightens on Lan Wangji's wrist. "I want to show you around."

 

He does not say _home_ , and Lan Wangji flushes at the thought that flutters through his mind - that he's waiting for someone to make it home. "Go ahead," he says.

 

The large door to the fort falls open as they approach, and Wei Wuxian leads Marceline in, with Lan Wangji looking down at the moat that seems to be chock-full of half-alive creatures. The bridge is sturdy, however, and holds against them. Inside is warmer than the outside, with the candles concentrated in the large gable windows, and the inner rooms seem to be full of people.

 

No, not people. Wangji squints, and he swears that he can see a woman floating several feet off the ground talking to a severed head as they move slowly towards the side of the stables. Several ghosts stop to bow to Wei Wuxian as they pass, and he bats them away fondly, even as Wangji feels their curious gazes rest on him.

 

Mortal souls and undead? What _is_ this place?

 

"You're...in charge of the Down Under. The ruler of the Undead?" he murmurs.

 

"The first one in the Hundredth Realm, yes," Wei Wuxian says. "Ah, we're here. Marceline must rest now."

 

Lan Wangji dismounts first, and then Wei Wuxian follows. The mare neighs softly before she kicks up more smoke and trots into the distance.

 

"That's her stable over there," he says, pointing in the direction she went. "She likes her privacy, so I visit only once a day. You, though - you might want to see the gardens."

 

Lan Wangji wants to see anything as long as Wei Wuxian keeps looking at him like that. He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and lets himself be led towards the east on a dirt trail. The ghosts steer clear of him, but watch curiously as he walks. He must look so out of place here in his pristine white robes, with pearls and flowers in his hair. For a moment he feels half-embarrassed, but continues on. Wei Wuxian has not commented on his appearance, so he refuses to be ashamed of it.

 

The dirt trail seems to lead into a field with twisted, withered trees and scattered shrubbery. The place is as desolate as the rest of the Down Under, without candle light to see it by. Wei Wuxian lights a talisman as soon as they get there, and lets it float in the air next to him, gently burning.

 

"This is magic soil," Wei Wuxian says, face solemn in the flickering light. "The shrubs have grown despite the lack of light and love, which means they are only waiting for someone to wake them up."

 

"This is what you wanted to show me," Wangji states. Wei Wuxian is right - the soil is filled with spirit energy, if mostly that of the mortal. Not an ideal way for plants to grow, which is why the trees look twisted and forgotten - but the abundance of it means that it only needs some tenderness to be made right.

 

"Yes! I've seen your Shrines - from a distance, of course - when I went to the Upside Moon on a job recently," Wei Wuxian says. "You have little land to cultivate, and I have much. All I ask is that you consider using your gifts here, if only for a while. I know you have... attachments, in the Upside, so I will not keep you here."

 

His voice cracks a little. Wangji wonders if Gods can get colds too.

 

"I have no qualms about that," he replies. Lan Wangji can already feel the call of the soil, and wonders if his rabbits would like it here. He kneels on the ground, uncaring of his robes, and takes out his pouch of soil again. He brushes his hand across the ground, picking up some native soul, and compares it to that of the Upside.

 

"The composition is the same," he says. "A land this desolate, however...it will take time, to let it truly cultivate." For a second, he regrets being only a minor God, with not much energy on his hands. "This land...what use will it be put to, when it flourishes?"

 

Wei Wuxian's grin is bright when he looks up. "I was hoping you'd ask. Come, before you immerse yourself in work, Seven-Strings, you must meet my household."

 

***

 

Wei Wuxian's household is every bit as bizarre as the man himself.

 

"Pour out some wine. Oh, not for the guest, though," he says to a lovely woman who blinks at him and then nods, scurrying away despite her lack of feet. "Sorry," he adds. "We have a food shortage here, so everyone lives on rations and I'd rather not have you have a lawsuit on your first day here. The red tape on them is absolutely awful, I hear, you'll be stuck in the proceedings for months."

 

"A food shortage?" It makes sense, now that he thinks about it - any Immortals unfortunate enough to be assigned here must be short on spiritual energy, and there is but little opportunity to grow any of their own. "Is that why you visited the Upside recently?"

 

"Mhm, I wanted to try out some of the Divine-Tongued's food, and decided it was more economical buying the whole lot considering how many people live here anyway." Wei Wuxian doesn't seem too hung up over the situation, so Wangji assumes it's not serious enough to call for emergency help yet from the higher ups. "It's a pity, really, we have our own Golden-Hand here, our head chef, but he can't make enough without ingredients!"

 

That's a puzzling choice of words. Lan Wangji can't help but ask - "What do they eat, then? Doesn't making food expend spiritual energy?" He had always assumed that Erina had gotten hers from the abundance of it in the Upside, which is why she was never tired.

 

"Oh no, they get it from satisfaction. It's like an energy loop. The more people enjoy their food, the more they are satisfied, and the more motivation - in the form of energy - that a chef God gets. I hear you play well, is it not the same?"

 

That... makes sense, surprisingly. He had always felt content after playing for his new neighbours instead of just playing to himself. "It is, I suppose." A pause. "I would not mind playing for you."

 

Wei Wuxian stops, face blank for a moment. Lan Wangji looks at him, bemused at the lack of expression.

 

"Is... something wrong?" he ventures.

 

The head shake that follows seems like a lie, but Lan Wangji knows lying doesn't help in the Thousand Realms, where everyone is carefully monitored for their virtues. Curious, that a little thing like that would make him react like that.

 

"Nothing is wrong," Wei Wuxian says, and his face finally relaxes. "Let us sit in the parlour room - it has more wind than the insides."

 

The parlour room turns out to be a huge circular room with a tiny porch, and large windows made of glasslike material. A hundred candles flicker on a small platform that hangs from the high ceiling.

 

"That's a chandelier," Wei Wuxian says. "That's the other problem of overseeing everything - all of these use up spirit energy, and we never have quite enough left over for the Immortals here to cultivate."

 

"Does...does the First Realm not see the problems you face in here?"

 

"Of course they do. But we're Gods. We're supposed to find a solution ourselves." Wei Wuxian's smile turns wry as he sits down on the low couch facing the windows, patting the soft pillow next to him to signal Lan Wangji to sit down. "It's actually part of the reason that my chef keeps inviting the Divine-Tongued here. He's under the impression that she would be intrigued enough by this to help out here sometimes and see what she could do about it."

 

"I see," Lan Wangji says. He sits down somewhat awkwardly, realizing that Wei Wuxian has not demanded that he discard his mask this whole time, and the point where he could take it off without potentially raising questions has already passed. "He has... asked me to deliver flowers to her before. She was pleased."

 

Wei Wuxian snorts. "I'm glad that his oblivious courting habits are finally paying off." He sighs next. "Not that it's helping. We really need all the help we can get around here."

 

"You don't need to convince me, Wei Wuxian," Wangji says. And he doesn't.

 

There's no reply. Wei Wuxian faces the windows, and Lan Wangji follows his vision. From here he can see the wild trees outside, deformed things that they are, extending into the endless darkness lit only by the dimmest stars. He wonders how Wei Wuxian had found his path home when he first came here - an eclipsed sun stumbling blind in the dark.

 

"Don't call me that, either." Wei Wuxian says, and the teasing note in his voice is gone.

 

Lan Wangji turns to him. "What?" The other God's eyes are bewitching in the gentle light of a hundred flickering candles, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. He is not the first to break eye contact, however, and when he turns away he sees the ribbon tie again, and he feels an inexplicable hunger, to tear it away and watch his hair fall open.

 

"We're close, aren't we? Now that you have agreed to help me?" Wei Wuxian turns to him, eyes flicking to his hand, which had raised just a little towards his hair.

 

He restrains his hand again. "What should I call you, then?"

 

Wei Wuxian is silent only for a few moments. "Call me...Wei Ying."

 

There's that memory again - this time more distinct, a moonlit night, a boy on the roof with wine jars at his hip.

 

 _What nonsense._ Lan Wangji needs to stop projecting. "Wei Ying," he tries, and the words roll off his tongue as naturally as if he has said them all his life.

 

Wei Wuxian - no, _Wei Ying_ \- smiles. His eyes look a little glassy. "Lan Zh-"

 

"Patriarch, Light-bearer," the ghost from earlier calls from the door, a tray with two glasses in her hand. "Your wine."

 

"Ah," _Wei Ying_ says. He turns to her, the light in his eyes disappearing as he pulls on one of the jars at his waist. "Do you know this brand, perhaps? Emperor's Smile."

 

"I...no," he says uncertainly. _Light-bearer?_ Is it a name for those on the Upside? Wei Ying's smile turns teasing.

 

"I would never expect you to drink wine willingly, let alone mortal wine, anyway!" he says. "Come, we can't even ration out water for our good guest, but we shall celebrate anyway! To good harvests!"

 

Lan Wangji looks at his empty glass, and feels a smile threatening to break out on his face. He clinks it against Wei Ying's.

 

Looking at Wei Ying's answering smile, the world feels golden.

 

***

 

He fills his sleeves with handfuls of soil that Wei Ying packs carefully into Sealing Pouches, and then offers to see him home. Lan Wangji decides to not point out that he has no idea how to get back anyway, and acquiesces.

 

The way back is surprisingly shorter, which leaves him feeling a little deprived. As they ride, Wei Ying explains that it is because they don't have to double back to the Festival this time, and can just go to the Nexus that connects the Darkside Moon to the Upside.

 

"The Down Under is technically under the jurisdiction of the Darkside, but no one comes here anyway, so it's usually just us taking journeys up into the surface." Wei Ying points at the boundary line before Marceline steps through the Nexus. "See? No one's here."

 

"Mm." Truthfully, Wangji feels tired. He had sat down on the fields and manipulated an entire section of soil into something he could work with in the coming weeks. He feels motivation though - for the first time in actual weeks. "I do not mind even if they are."

 

"So unselfish, but you already look so exhausted," Wei Ying says, voice so tender that Lan Wangji feels it resonate all the way down to his toes. "I'm sorry for troubling -"

 

"It was no trouble," he denies, catching hold of the hand that Wei Ying raises to his face. Every cell in his body screams for him to not let go of that warmth, so paradoxical of the place he lives in. "I shall visit again, but where do I go?"

 

"I will come back to you myself," Wei Ying says, and his tone sounds almost... desperate. "I will always come back to you."

 

It sounds like a promise. Lan Wangji thinks, selfishly, that he would like to have all of Wei Ying's promises. But something so generous - given so generously, offered so freely, even when he doesn't understand it, demands something in return.

 

"We must seal the promise," he says, abruptly. His heart burns - he thinks of the boy who comes to him in dreams again, but against the backdrop of his cottage in the ever-rising sunrise of the Upside Realm it seems irreverent to not worship Wei Ying for the God he is, to think of mortals.

 

"Seal it?" Wei Ying says, voice confused, while Lan Wangji takes off his mask. His eyes go wide, breath stuttering, "Lan Wangji, what do you think you're-"

 

Wangji does not give him the chance to finish that sentence. "Don't call me that," he says, and cups his cheeks with his hands.

 

His lips are warm like his hands, he thinks, as he leans in. It feels like a shock, like dipping his toes into cold water after a day spent barefoot on desert sands - like something he has been looking for his whole life. Wei Ying breaks away the next instant, eyes shocked, and Lan Wangji's right hand slowly reaches up to the ribbon entwined into Wei Ying's hair, and pulls him back in so he's completely leaning against his chest.

 

There is no resistance this time. He kisses him slow and deep - and realizes, fortuitously, that even Gods need air, if only because they have no practice going without it. He breathes through his nose, and keeps going. Far from protesting, Wei Ying actually leans in with him, with equal ferocity, like the Realm will come apart if he lets Lan Wangji go.

 

He finally does have to stop, when Wei Ying starts to shudder in his arms, and he feels the faint tang of arousal in the air. This will never do - not in the Upside Realm. He doesn't know all the Rules of the Downside, but he's sure he's violating several.

 

"Sealed with... a kiss," he says. He does not let go of the hand that holds on to Wei Ying's head, entwined in his braid. Wei Ying doesn't seem like he minds, an emotion he cannot name swimming in the grey depths of his beautiful eyes.

 

"How bold of you, Light-bearer," Wei Ying breathes, right against his lips. "I will hold you to that." His smile turns amused. "Would've never taken you for a Rule breaker."

 

"There's three thousand in that contract," he protests, "I had no time to read them all while in the lobby."

 

He has no idea why Wei Ying throws his head back and bursts into laughter, but he'll take it, if only because he will cherish this one memory that he can keep without it escaping his grasp - held firmly against his chest against the dawn.

 

***

 

"And why did he keep...calling you...that?" Misaki says, waggling her pen at him. "You don't find that suspicious at all?"

 

"I forgot to ask him," Wangji says solemnly. He feels like his tone fits the situation, since it's an emergency meeting. They are apparently having one, if the large INTERVENTION banner that Kagome has shown up with means anything.

 

"So a strange man shows up at a festival, and tells you to come with him, and you just...go. Risking the potential kidnapping," Erina says in disbelief. She sits back and bites into one of her cupcakes. "You need a babysitter, Lan Wangji."

 

"It's not kidnapping if he went willingly," Kagome points out, stealing a cupcake for herself.

 

"Kagome, you're the one who wanted to hold an intervention!! Let us interrogate him properly!" Misaki snaps. Lan Wangji wants to point out that seeing as this is his cottage, he can easily throw them out, but he doesn't have the heart to, so he sits back and watches the carnage happen. He swears he had a silence spell for these situations, back in his own time.

 

"Both of you, calm down." Yue turns to Wangji, gaze serious. "He just wanted you to help with the gardens? Are you sure?"

 

"He didn't ask me to come there and replace his useless chef? He said they needed food down there, right? Why does he keep that hack God around, anyway?" Erina asks.

 

"Or ask you to take part in any demonic rituals that involved stealing your teeth and hair?" Misaki adds.

 

Wangji stares blankly. "No, he was rather understanding of our Rules. He did want you to come visit, but you probably won't be able to stand it. And... he also had the opportunity to do that, so I assume not."

 

"The opportunity to do what - oh. _OH._ GROSS." Misaki makes a face. "Please never talk to me again, I need to bleach that image from my brain, you're basically my brother."

 

"What - oh my god, no, you have to tell us details! Misaki, stop being a spoilsport!"

 

Lan Wangji tunes them out again, tuning in to the soft fluting on the Thousand Realm Radio Channel that he's left playing, that serves as a serene background to the chaos. His eyes rest on the plant on his windowsill, the one that blooms a different flower to signify his mood every day. Yellow tulip. _Sunshine in your smile_.

 

He thinks of the camellia that he had taken out of his hair after Wei Ying had left. The pink petals had darkened into a gentle red. _Yearning_ , he thinks, substituted for _desire_.

 

He does not meet Yue's worried eyes. Whatever happens at this point, Lan Wangji knows, it is too late for him to go back to before he met Wei Ying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the flower meanings are taken from [this site](https://www.almanac.com/content/flower-meanings-language-flowers).
> 
> comments are So Important thank you for EVERYONE who motivates me like you all do holy shit.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked my work, please consider [supporting me here](https://twitter.com/wangxianist/status/1059873347020840960) or leaving me a comment!!! They help so much with motivating, I promise!


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